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Salmabanu Hatim Nov 2019
Nothing matters,
Faster, Faster,
I pedal away,
To a bright new day.
Gives me wings to fly,
Every terrain I want to try,
Also chase the blue sky.
With the fresh open air,
As it messes with my hair,
I cycle everywhere,
In the woods, on a street or cycle track,
Here, there and back,
Up the hill I huff and puff,
Going up is tough.
Oh,what freedom!
Like the joy of stardom,
My mind crystal  clear,
Lots I discover as my bike I steer.
Round and round the wheels go,
In the sun, rain or snow,
Every moment I relish,
Never to end I wish.
18/11/2019.
Brandon Conway May 2019
Soma that seeps
flowing
like little creeks
sprinkling
off the edge
wetting
a tongue outstretched
watering
wilted flower beds
feeding
that pretty head
cycling
arid to wetlands
Jo May 2019
And in this moment
I have died
and am born again.
A king in cardboard boxes
dances through the drunken haze
a stag steps into the clearing
leading me back to the road
where my family awaits
their songs of pain and life
fall to deadened ears
another second has passed
and I'm back again;
Cambria Andersen Nov 2018
I was well once
I was soft once
No bouts of crazy once
No Bipolar once
I am stable right now, but not too long ago I was cycling. I have to manage it everyday. I live with it like anyone else that lives with a disease. It doesn't define me as a person, but I have to admit, my poetry comes easier when I am cycling. I am grateful for the stability I have today and the ability to manage this disease and still be successful in my public and private lives.
Benedict May 2018
I know you shake and squeak,
I bought you cheap,
Parts of you dropped below,
Down to the road,
So, I slowed,
To rescue your parted pieces.
Then back inside,
With limited tool supply,
I’d scratch my head,
And knot my brow,
As your rusted threads,
Spun round and round,
But I’d make you whole again,
My shaking, squeaking friend,
With you there is no end,
For every time your handles creak,
Any rush of air that peeps
A look through treads run bare,
I’ll carry you home,
With care,
And make you whole again.
jünø Feb 2018
i went cycling today,
the only bike in a sea of cars.
i felt like i was the only one living.
i felt like i was flying
and everyone else was stuck
in a black and white world
ys Nov 2017
The call of the open roads, a city still asleep…

The slow burn as the dawn takes a bow, and sets the stage for another show...

Of curves and straights, and odd complexities of  going under or over…

Of freedom.

Of pain and sweat and sweet victories. Chirping birds and jarring horns...

The familiar silhouette of wagging tails, and jagged paths...

Of people... Strangers or just familiar faces.

Of friends. Same places and faces.

Conversations punctuated with heavy breath.

Of silence amidst noise. Of solitude in crowds. Thoughts meandering in rhythm with the motion, sometimes not…

The brake and breaks. Seeking pleasure  in the usual, which seems same and yet unusual…

Day dreaming, lost and yet aware. Fast and slow. Laughing and cringing…

Gleaming legs and the last leg. It's time to get back to the 'other' life, the other side…

Until, it's back to spinning again.
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